Blind Leading the Deaf
by Levanael
Summary: When Sam is kidnapped, Castiel summons an old friend to help Dean find his brother.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, even the smallest atom. No profit will be made from this fanfic, and no artists were harmed in the making of it.

Warnings/Summary: Prologue of a short little series I'm considering. My first little Destiel piece. Going to be rather dark, very adult themed, smut in later chapters, and by later I might mean next chapter, just depending on how it goes. For all I know, there will only be one other chapter. OC making a short appearance in the form of Seraphiel. Feel free to read Guiding Light where she also makes an cameo. Also, this went completely unbeta'd as I wanted to post this now and my usual Beta is asleep, so any errors are totally mine.

Never had Sam been caught so unaware. It was practically amateur of him. One moment he was walking backing to motel room after getting a very refreshing coke. The next the ground was moving quickly up towards him, the soft, dark grasp of unconsciousness scoping him up, the only warning a blinding pain at the back of his head. When he managed to drag himself to wakefulness, all he could see was bright, blinding white light. It was several painful minutes before the pounding in his head calmed slightly and his eyes adjusted enough to see something other than that painful whiteness. When he tried to move, he became aware of the fact that he was bound to a St. Andrew's cross, the upright X stretching his limbs to the limit, with bands at all his joints, tight enough to hold him immobile, but lose enough to keep blood flowing to all his extremities. The leather bands creaked as he pulled hard against them, testing his strength against their strength. They were the stronger. There was no way out of bonds that was immediately visible, so he settled back to wait.

Slowly his senses began to clear, and more details of the room around him became apparent. Oddly enough, he was shirtless, though whoever had bond him had left his at least some dignity and kept his blue jeans on. The frame underneath his skin refused to heat up, and the cold was beginning to wear on him. The light in the room came from lights set into the ceiling, the light reflecting brightly off the white floor. There was an inset drain a foot or so from where Sam was bound. He only noticed the door when he came through it. In a strong contrast with the white, he wore all black, a silky black button up, and black trousers. He was a healthy tan, and had the build of someone who worked hard for a living, despite his clothing. His hair was short, dirty blonde, and hazel eyes gleamed with amusement. He looked like a kind person. Looks could be deceiving. "Hello, Sam."

"Where the Hell am I?" Sam asked, furious for obvious reasons.

"Oh, Sam, no need to be angry. We haven't even started with the fun things yet. There will be plenty of time to be angry and yell and scream later. Oh, and beg and plead. I will make sure there is plenty of time." The man's smile became icy , and his eyes flashed flat black.

"What do you want, demon scum?" Sam asked, watching the demon warily. He was fairly sure he already knew.

"Why, for you to say yes to my father. Oh, and the exact location of your brother, so we can stop him from saying yes." The demon smiled amiably, his black eyes crinkling. "You give me that and I'll happily let you down."

"Go fuck yourself. Lucifer doesn't want me harmed. So good luck with getting anything out of me."

"Oh, Sam, I was so hoping you would say that. You see, I'm rather odd for a demon." He closed with Sam, his face mere inches away. "I'm quite willing to sacrifice myself for the greater good, and the greater good for my kind is getting Lucifer in your meat suit, and killing Dean before Michael can get in him. So, I have no qualms about cutting a yes out of your skin. Last chance to do this without me having to convince you, Sammy boy."

"Don't call me Sammy, you giant prick. And go to Hell."

"Been there... done that... got the t-shirt... Don't worry. I learned a lot while I was there, and I'll be creative with you. You'll get to see some of my best work. Well, feel at least." The razor that was in his hands gleamed brightly in the clinically white light in the room. The unnamed demon's smile became the smile of a shark, all shiny white and dangerous points. He ran long, graceful fingers over it, smiling gently, lovingly at it, almost like it was a lover. Sam took a quick look at it, and realized it was almost a box cutter, all in silver, beautiful engravings along the sides. All in all, it was a beautiful thing, and he thought it was beautiful right up until it began carving into his skin. The demon smiled wickedly at Sam's groan. "Sing for me, Sam. Sing for me."

A/N: So that was the prologue. I


	2. Chapter 2

It was morning before Dean realized he was gone. Morning, because Dean had gone to sleep earlier than Sam had. Morning, because that was when the awkwardness of Castiel's stare woke Dean out of his sleep. The shock of the angel's presence beside him on the bed had Dean jerking away, falling off the bed with a loud thump, still tangled in covers. "Cas, damn it. Personal space, man!'

"My apologies. I need to speak with you and Sam, Dean. We think we have figured out what seal the demons will try and break next, and we need your assistance in stopping them. Where is Sam? We need to be leaving rather quickly." Castiel's voice was an odd mix of urgency and calmness. He looked his usual slightly ruffled self, the angelic serenity on his face almost unsettling in it's solidness.

"What do you mean, where is Sam? He's in the other bed." Dean's response was muffled, and the sounds coming from his location made it obvious he was trying to untangle himself from the sheets and comforter.

"No, he isn't."

"Then he probably went out to get breakfast."

"The car is still here, as is his wallet. I believe his gun is still under his pillow as well, although I have not checked." The last comment really caught Dean's attention, and his head finally appeared above the side of the bed, a vague frown there.

"Call his cell phone. I'm sure he just stepped out. I'm gonna take a shower." After finally managing to extract himself from the mess of blankets, Dean stumbled toward the bathroom, rubbing his hands vaguely across his bare chest. "Don't follow me in here like you did last time." Was his parting comment. Castiel looked down, the slightest of flushes tinging his cheeks at the memory. Maybe, one day, he would finally grasp the complexities of human interaction. The sounds of the shower had started up before Castiel's thoughts returned to the current matter, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out the small silver device that was becoming so essential to his workings on Earth. He sighed at it, frowning vaguely, and dialed Sam's number, only to discover that this course of action was completely useless. Sam's phone was on the table by his laptop. The voice mail beeped, and Castiel left a message.

"Sam, when you get this, call me back, please." Castiel hung up the phone, returning it to his pocket, the ridiculousness of the situation not occurring to him. It wasn't long after that that Dean came out of the bathroom, clothed, steam following him in ghostly tendrils.

"Get a hold of him?" He asked, running hands through wet hair, turning his gaze to Castiel.

"No. His phone is on the table. I left him a voice mail."

Dean passed over the ridiculousness of leaving Sam a voice mail to focus on the fact Sam's phone was here, everything else that Sam should have was still here, but Sam wasn't. "There is something wrong, Cas. He shouldn't have been gone this long, not without leaving some note or something. I'm gonna go look for him outside real quick."

Dean's 'quick' turned into almost an hour, and Castiel continued to sit calmly on the bed, staring at his his hands, contemplating angelic things. When Dead finally did return, it was obvious he was panicked. "Cas! I can't find him. You need to help me find him, damn it. What happened if he's been kidnapped? Or killed? We have to find him, Cas!"

"Dean, relaxed. We will find him. I can try some spells, those may work. But I cannot find him... the sigils on his ribs. Relax. Take a deep breath. We will find him." Castiel had stood quickly, fluidly, and now interrupted Dean's pacing by standing directly in his way. It took a few more seconds than normal for Dean to back away, a fact which Castiel noted in a small section of his mind. "I will find him." Castiel's arms came up, patting Dean's arms in an awkward attempt at comfort. "Sit. I will be back quickly." Castiel pushed him lightly toward a bed, and then was gone.

It was far too long, in Dean's opinion, before Castiel came back, several things clutched in his hands. "What took you so long?"

"I was only gone a few minutes, Dean. I had to acquire some things. Some of them were not easy." Castiel frowned lightly at the abrupt tone in Dean's voice, and then moved quickly to the table, setting up things with a smooth efficiency. He was quickly mixing ingredients into the silver bowl he had brought, chanting Enochian words that sounded harsh to human ears, but were music to his. The last word echoed slightly in the run-down hotel room. Nothing happened. Castiel looked around slightly, waiting for the spell to work as it should. It didn't. He frowned, slightly annoyed. "I do not... He is being hidden. We will have to find him another way. Maybe there is something that was left behind outside."

"There isn't anything, Cas! NOTHING!" Dean's voice was loud, too loud, and Castiel turned to face him, only to find Dean in his personal space, chests almost touching. "There isn't anything, Castiel, and he wouldn't leave his shit here if he was leaving. Someone fucking took him, and we have to fucking find him. Now!"

Castiel wasn't used to finding Dean this close to him, and found his body reacting in odd ways. He found far too much of his attention focused on the way Dean smelled, slightly rough, masculine, although there was a tang of fear there. He found far too much of his attention focused on the way Dean's lips looked with his teeth nibbling on them nervously. He was shocked by a tightening in his body, and then he jerked away, finding himself across the room before he could think. Dean looked at him oddly, the panic now melding with confusion. "I... I think I know someone who could help us find him. It would require a trade, of sorts, but as I believe you are willing to do anything to rescue your brother, I think you would be willing to deal with her. I can ask her to come, but not here. It would not be safe here. I will be back quickly. I need to find out what we will need." Castiel left then, needing to get away from Dean and ground himself, sort out the confusing feelings coursing through him.

Castiel was gone for several hours. Dean was close to crazy. He searched the hotel several times, hoping that something would show up, some sign, anything, that would hint to where Sam had been taken. He found nothing, and the nothing fed his panic. By the time Castiel came back, Dean was sitting on the bed, almost shaking, eyes dead. He barely shifted when Castiel appeared next to him, and only tilted his head a few inches when Castiel reached down, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Dean, I something of Sam's. Clothing is preferred, something he wore recently. Like something you would give a dog to find a scent. Dean! Focus!" Dean's head finally came up, and it took a few seconds before comprehension showed in his eyes. He stood slowly, moving stiffly around the hotel room, grabbing a shirt Sam had worn the previous day. He held it vaguely in Castiel's direction, hand slowly dropping when it was taken from him. Castiel quickly grabbed the things he had came with earlier, stuffing them into a bag with the shirt. He looked back at Dean, who just stood there, lost. Castiel sighed, reached out with a gentle hand, grasping Dean's shoulder. With a flap of wings, the hotel room was empty.

The warehouse he brought them to was old, run-down, dirty, and empty. Perfect. Moving quickly, Castiel set things up as he needed them. Now, to deal with Dean. The smack of skin of skin was loud, and it was as much of a shock as the slap that snapped Dean's head to the side, breaking him out of the funk he had settled in to. "What the fuck, Cas? What the Hell is your damn problem?"

"Oh, good, now that you are back to being non-comatose, we can proceed. I am about to summon a very dangerous, very powerful angel. I would prefer you actually thinking when I did it. This angel is... a friend, if you will, but she can be incredibly dangerous. She was the one that lead me to you in Hell. Her name is Seraphiel. She's the highest of the Seraphim. They can find things that are lost. I am hoping she can find Sam. Dean... do not test her. Seraphim are the embodiment of God's love, his fire. But God's love is not always kind. "

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get this over with." Dean's voice was still emotionless, but he looked slightly more aware. Castiel began to spell, quickly chanting words, hoping that this would go the way he hoped it would, but if it was one thing he knew about fire of any type was that it never did what you wanted it to do. The spell was short, over quickly, and in the silence following it, his voice seemed too loud. "Seraphiel, I need your help, old friend. Please..." Silence crowded in when he stopped speaking, silence so complete it rang in his ears.

"You rang?" The voice came from behind them, and both men twisted quickly, starting at the young woman standing behind them. She was different looking, obviously not human, but her oddness was enough to set Dean's nerves on edge. She was small, barely over five foot, and as pale as alabaster. There was a bandage wrapped around her head, hiding her eyes completely, and her red-gold hair, short. Almost feather-like, was a shock of color when compared to her pale skin and white bandage. That red hair was the only spot of color on her. She had a white tunic on that hit mid-thigh, swirling lightly around her legs as she walked forward. Bandages trailed down her legs, completely hiding her feet from sight. She almost looked wounded, but there was no limp in her step, no sign of weakness. "Well, Castiel? I do have things to be doing. Like singing Father's praises to an empty throne. Holy, holy holy..." Her voice was almost rough, and there was the crackle of a wildfire in it.

"I was hoping to barter with you -"

"Cut the bullshit, Castiel. Don't try to lure me in with political double talk. You know it won't work with me. You need me to find something... someone. The Lightbringer's Vessel, since Michael's is standing right there with a moronic look on his face, and he wouldn't be standing here alone unless he was forced to, what with the whole co-dependent relationship and everything. So, say I do look for him, which would take an especial amount of effort on my part, considering those wonderful little sigils you carved into their ribs, are you willing to accept what I want in exchange? Mind, I am not completely certain I can find him. Fairly certain, but not completely. You willing to accept those chance that I won't find him, but still give me what I want?" She had kept moving forward as she spoke, until she was within inches of Castiel, looking up into his eyes even though hers were hidden. Castiel could feel the intense heat coming off her, soaking through him, burning away some of the doubts in his mind. She smiled slightly at his quiet sigh of relief, and then her head turned sharply, attention focusing on Dead. "Please, speak all those wonderful little thoughts bouncing around in your mind. I can practically feel how much you feel insulted. So please... "

"Who the fuck are you, bitch, to call me an idiot, and to want something even when you can't promise to get me my God damn brother back? Who the fuck are you to show up here all high and fucking mighty?" Dean did not realize the slip he had made until he found himself on his back, on the ground, the sound of fire crackling filling his ears, the small angel crouched over him. She had wings now, graceful, and all the colors of fire, ranging from blue to white.

"You may insult me however you want, ape, but you will not take my Father's name in vain. I am far more tolerant of some things, but of that, I will not allow. Do you understand, or do I need to speak in simpler terms for your little brain to understand?" Her voice was dangerous, low, and Dean could feel waves of heat flickering along his skin, almost hot enough to be painful. Her hand, where it rested on his chest, easily holding him to the ground, was scalding hot, even through the shirt he was wearing. Dean gave a quick nod, and the angel disappeared from his vision. She was back by Castiel, her face again emotionless, serene. There was worry on Castiel's face when Dean sat up, eying the small angel warily. "I will look for your brother. I have nothing better to do, at the moment, and I have a certain interest in you." She turned back to Dean, still on the ground, and waited. When the silence dragged on, she sighed. "This is where you ask, why do you have such an interest in me, and I respond that I was the one that found you in the depths of Hell, the one that dragged Alistair away from you, and the one that nearly martyred herself to get you out. So, I have a slight interest in you. So, I will find your brother. Or try to find him. I assume you have something for me to catch his scent from. As for my payment..." she smiled slightly. "A kiss. From both."

"What?"

"Oh, did Castiel not explain? I'll give you a nice little break down. I'm a Seraphim. The Seraphim. Seraphiel. First of my kind to be created. The Alpha, if you will. Seraphim are angels made of God's love, and God's love is all encompassing. And I mean very, very encompassing. So, you can see how a kiss would fall under that. All things considering, especially the amount of power I'm going to have to use to find your brother, two kisses is quiet cheap. So? Will you accept the deal? Or can I go back to my actual purpose?"

There was silence in the warehouse as both men contemplated the deal. Dean was the first to speak. "Fucking crossroads angel... ridiculous. Fine. I'll do it. Cas?"

"I don't have an issue with it. It is a very good deal..."

"Excellent." She didn't give Castiel a chance to react. She simply snagged his tie, pulling him down to her lips. Castiel could feel a spark when her lips touched his, a fire, brief, like a sunburst in his mind. Then it was gone, though he could feel something different with himself. The fact that he couldn't pin exactly what was different was bothering, but he would worry about it later. The gentle pressure of her lips was gone then, as was the hold on his tie. It took a few seconds for him to recover from shock, during which Seraphiel stepped lightly over to Dean and treated him to the same experience. He was left with the same vaguely shocked expression on his face. "I'll be back when I find him. My suggestion is you return to your hotel room. I will find you, no need to worry." There was a light flap of wings, and she was gone.

"What the Hell just happened?"

"If I knew, I would tell you, Dean."


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings/Summary: Torture, and all that good stuff. Another brief interlude to check on Sam while other things happen. I don't own Supernatural or any characters.

His voice was raw from screaming. Sam had lost track of time passing. Now the only thing that counted was the pain that threatened to suck him under. The demon was methodical, never doing enough damage to threaten Sam's life, but enough to cause a pain so intense that everything in Sam's mind was tinged with it. He had managed to hold his screams back for a while, but eventually the demon's razor tickled them out of him, slowly but surely. At Sam's first scream, a slight smile flashed across the demon's face, and it only grew slowly wider, slowly more vicious, at the ones that followed. There were only a few times that Sam found darkness carrying him away to unconsciousness, away from the all-consuming pain. The blessed, painless darkness never lasted long enough for Sam. He was always dragged back in to consciousness, back in to a world tinged red by pain. He did not know how long it was until he started begging.

"Please, stop. Pleaaaaase." Sam was ashamed at how broken his voice sounded. He thought he would have been able to hold out longer. His brother had held out for decades in Hell. Sam did not know how long he had been here, but he did not think it had been more than a day. Exhaustion was warring with him, but it could have just as easily been caused by the torment his body was being put through as from a lack of sleep.

"Are you ready to say yes, Sam?" the demon's voice was calm, controlled, and his maniacal grin faded a little. Sam shivered slightly at black eyes found his, and found the strength to say no. The demon did not receive the yes he had been hoping for. Instead, a face full of spat out blood was all he got. A brief flash of rage showed before the demon controlled himself. "I am sorry that you had to do that, Sam. I am patient, you see. Far more patient than most of my brothers and sisters. So, I can be patient until you break. I can control myself. You will not get the death that you are seeking, and no one will be coming to save you. No angels, no brother. You are alone. I have all the time in the world, and eventually, Sam, you are going to say yes. However, you are looking a little worse for wear, so let us fix you up a little." The demon turned, light on his feet, a bounce in his step, and went to the door. What looked to be a young woman was tossed into room at his feet, and he looked down as she curled up into the fetal position, slight whimpers coming from her. "Shhhh, little one. I won't hurt you as long as you do as I ask. Come, come." The girl shrieked at her first glance at the demon, face covered in blood, and he lost a slight bit of his patience. "Get up, or I am going to toss you back out to the rank and file, and I doubt you will enjoy that." His voice had gone icy cold, and he grabbed one of her arms, dragging her to his feet. She was worn looking, a little too thin, bruises here and there on her skin. There was fear lurking deep in her eyes as she looked quickly around the room, gaze falling on Sam, and a small, animalistic noise slipped out of her. "You know what I need you to do, don't you? You do this for me, and I'll make sure you are treated well. You would like that, wouldn't you? The best food, a hot bath, new clothes..." The woman looked up at him, nodding her head quickly, hope flaring briefly. "Go on then, little one. Help him." When she turned her back to him, the demon's smile grew dangerous. She stepped quickly to Sam, a look of concentration on her face. Her hands were hot when they met his skin, although Sam was surprised he could feel anything but pain by then. "You see, Isabella there is very special. She can heal. Her little talent comes in handy now and again. Like now." Sam could vaguely sense the demon stepping closer, but the blessed soothing of the pain was all he could really concentrate on. Then it was gone. The pain. The warmth. He was left shivering on the wrack, no marks on his body. The woman stepped back, a slight smile on her face as she looked at the demon. "Good job, little one. Now head back outside, and they will see that you are taken care of." A gentle push on her shoulder sent her back toward the door, and as soon as it snicked closed, the demon sighed. "Stupid bitch. Anyway... back to business, shall we?" The first cut of the razor against Sam's skin drew a scream that brought a slight smile to the demon's lips, and he settled back into the rhythm of slowly breaking Sam.

A/N: Ummmm... Yeah... I don't really have anything to say here... Good times...


	4. Chapter 4

Warning/Summary: Smut. Destiel. Plot moving along. Bad language... my usual. I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters and blah blah blah... you know the spiel.

Castiel knew there was something off with him and Dean. It was growing more and more obvious, and bothering as time passed. They had been back in the hotel within the hour, and Dean had began pacing, occasionally muttering things about stupid angels taking too long. Castiel had sat on a bed, Dean walking back and forth in front of him, and let his thoughts drift. Time passed, and Castiel slowly found his thoughts drawn from other things to the man pacing slowly back and forth across the room. Every time he drew near, Castiel found his eyes drawn to the way Dean's legs moved under his jeans, the way the cloth hung low on his hips. It was an unconscious thing to run his eyes slowly up Dean's body as he paced, admiring the slight hint of a muscled body underneath the shirt, the bunch of a bicep pushing up the cloth when Dean raised an arm to run anxious fingers through his hair. Castiel's fingers twitched, longing to run his fingers through Dean's hair, he longed to replace Dean's fingers, currently tapping at his lips, with his own lips. The slight shock of where his thoughts had headed shook Castiel for a second, and he frowned, slightly confused as to what had been happening. He did not think any spell had been worked on him to cause this. Then he remembered that slight bit of heat that had slipped past his lips when Seraphiel had pulled him down to her, that little bead of fire that had melded with his essence, disappearing. He could sense that fire now. It was larger than he remembered, heating up his body in a gentle but irresistible way, drawing his thoughts back to wherever they had been heading. He vaguely wondered if Dean was feeling this as well, this heat, this... desire. He knew he would not mind feeling Dean – Castiel stopped that train of thought, quickly covering his surprised cough with a hand.

Dean was in fact also feeling the same heat as Castiel, and every time he paced by the angel, legs almost brushing knees, he found his thoughts drawn farther and farther down a carnal path. These thoughts only slightly bothered Dean. He had had plenty of sexual experiences, with men and women, and it was not as if Castiel was not handsome. If fact, the angel, or at least his vessel, had quite a few points in his favor. Dean looked up from the ground at Castiel's badly covered cough, and met blue eyes that had darkened considerably. Castiel quickly broke, dropping his eyes back down to the floor, steepling his fingers and resting his chin gently against them. Dean was distracted for a brief moment by the tempting sight of Castiel's lips pressing against his fingers, but the fact that Sam was still gone intruded, distracting him again from his rather carnal contemplation of his angel. And since when had Cas been _his_ angel... Dean shook his head slightly, trying to focus on Sammy. This time, when he began pacing, he consciously put distance between him and Castiel. Sam was gone, the stupid angel Cas had said could help them was still not back, and it had been at least a few hours. It had never taken Cas this long to find something, and the wait was beginning to wear on Dean. "Cas, what the fuck is taking so long?" Castiel twitched slightly at his voice, and when he met Dean's eyes, a vague panic was quickly covered by the angel's usual stoicism.

"Dean, she said it would take time. He is being hidden, well hidden, but she will find him. Relax." Ideas flashed through both of their minds at exactly how they could relax, and both men looked away, finding other things around the room that were interesting. Dean collapsed down on to the other bed, grabbing the tv remote and flicking the tv on. The channel that came on was, of course, porn. Dean muffled an invective in a cough, quickly switching the channel to something less provocative. However, everything seemed to be sexual to him at the moment. He could even find sexual meanings in some stupid ad about some chopper. The guy was yelling something about liking his nuts, and Dean quickly changed the channel again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Castiel shifting uncomfortably, rocking back and forth slightly, and he could swear he could hear Castiel muttering things under his breath.

"You ok, Cas?" Dean said, and Castiel turned his head towards him. The light coming from the tv lit up the angles of his face in an amazing way, and Dean found his brain going blank. _Jesus, the things I could do to NO THINKING ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW._ Dean shook his head slightly, trying to drag his thoughts back from Sexual La-La Land, where they were currently forming a very graphic and very specific fantasy involving Castiel and his tie. He met the slightly curious look in Castiel's eye with a slight smirk, and he almost thought Castiel's eyes flicked down to fixate on his lips, but that would not happen. Castiel was an angel, and was junkless. Or something.

"I am... fine." Castiel managed to say, although how he managed to form a complete sentence around the thoughts about Dean's lips on certain parts of his body, he had no idea. In all honesty, he was not fine. His entire body was growing uncomfortably tight, and more and more so he found his thoughts dominated by images of Dean. He cleared his throat, turning his gaze back to the tv, and letting out a slow breath that was almost a groan. He needed to focus. On Dean. Naked. No! Not on Dean naked. On the fact that Sam was gone, and Dean was alone. He was not often alone. Castiel should take advantage – NO! The last thing Castiel should be doing is taking advantage of anyone. He had to stand quickly, and began rapidly pacing back and forth, struggling to keep his thoughts as they should be. He could feel the fire inside him now, although it was more an inferno than a fire, the heat of it filling his body almost uncomfortably, making him feel like he needed less clothing on, making him feel too hot. And Dean... Dean looked like a tall glass of ice cold water. Castiel caught himself staring, standing frozen in the middle of the room, mouth hanging open slightly. He could see Dean's mouth moving, saying something, but no noise reached his ears. All he could focus on was the way Dean's lips looked, and the fact he was getting closer, having gotten out of the bed. Close enough to smell, to touch, too close... he was too irresistible.

Dean was not expecting the explosion of movement when he touched Castiel's shoulder, was not expecting to suddenly be spun and pushed roughly against the desk, Castiel's fingers weaving into his hair, Castiel's lips hard on his, almost too rough, but just rough enough. He was also not expecting the throaty moan that came from him from the rough handling. It was long moments of Castiel ravishing his mouth with lips, teeth and tongue before Dean was allowed to breathe again. "Cas." The nickname slipped out roughly, filled with lust and need and so many other sinful things they were innumerable and indescribable. He could feel Castiel's breath, hot against his neck, and he could feel the angel shudder slightly.

"Dean... I'm sorry... I don't know..." Castiel's apology was cut off by Dean's lips. Dean had the thought to twist them around, so he could be the one pinning Castiel, but Castiel didn't even seem to notice Dean was pushing against him, trying to move him. The only thing Castiel seemed to notice was that there was far too much space separating their bodies. He remedied that fact almost immediately. Dean was pulled against the shorter angel's body, arms like steel tightening almost painfully, but the pressure against Dean's body just drew another moan from him. He could not figure exactly what Castiel tasted like. It was a mix of coffee, chocolate, and something Dean could only describe as light. It was a heady combination that Dean could not get enough of, so much that he went on the aggressive, chasing Castiel's tongue back into his mouth, feeling his body tighten at the wave of sensations. Castiel's taste, the feeling of his tongue stroking against his, the feeling of hard bodies pressing together, a smell that went along with the taste, chocolate-coffee-light, and the ghosting of feathers stroking across skin. Of course, all this faded away when Castiel shifted his hips, grinding hard against Dean. Pleasure flashed bright in both their brains, and the kiss broke, leaving them both gasping loud in the quiet of the motel room. The tv was off, somehow. Neither noticed. Blue eyes dark with lust met green eyes that were equally dark. "Dean, I don't know how..." Castiel trailed off, innocence flashing briefly in his eyes.

"Don't worry. I know enough for both of us." Dean's voice was low, rough, and laden when desire. This time when he pushed, Castiel moved backward, sitting on the bed, looking up at Dean with wide eyes. Dean quickly stripped off his shirt, and he could almost feel Castiel's eyes running across his body. He quickly moved to Castiel, straddling his hips on the bed, grinding down against him slightly, savoring the pressure against him. A deep groan slipped from Castiel, and he wrapped his arms gently around Dean's waist, pressing his face into his chest.

"Dean..." Castiel moaned, and Dean savored the feeling of his name being pulled from Castiel's lips from pleasure. After melding his lips with Castiel's, Dean's hand slipped under the trench coat, slipping it off Castiel's shoulders. The tie was quickly yanked off his neck, and it only took a brief second of debate before Dean decided that he didn't have the patience to bother with actually unbuttoning the buttons. Fists grabbed the thin fabric of Castiel's white shirt and with a quick yank, buttons tore, pinging against random surfaces against the room. Castiel let out a slight growl at the roughness, and Dean suddenly found himself on his back, Castiel hovering between his thighs, weight pressing Dean into the mattress. Several moments passed of breathless grinding, low moans and groans. It was far too quickly that Dean found himself begging quietly, words almost running together.

"Cas please, I need... _God, _Cas..." Dean could almost feel Castiel laugh, and when he managed to focus on Cas's face, there was a slight smile there. "What are you smiling about?" Dean groaned out, eyes rolling back slightly from yet another grind of Castiel's hips.

"And here I was thinking I would be the one begging." Cas's voice was rougher than usual, and his hands fisted the bed sheets slightly. Dean could see a slight gleam of sweat on his body. He could hear Cas's breathing, fast and light, and Dean savored the fact that he was drawing these reactions out of the stoic angel. But Cas teasing him about begging? That made Dean's pride rise up and bite. A quick spin, and Castiel was on his back, looking up at Dean with slightly surprised eyes. Dean slid quickly down Castiel's body, hand rubbing at the hard bulge in his slacks, drawing a broken out moan out of the angel. The belt holding the slacks up was quickly removed, and the button holding them easily slipped out with a slight twist of Dean's fingers. Castiel's eyes locked with Dean's down his body as Dean's hands slipped Castiel's slacks and boxers off. A slight sigh of relief followed Castiel relaxing back onto the bed. However, he inhaled quickly as the heat of Dean's mouth surrounded his cock. "Dee-" Cas's voice broke, and Dean found strong fingers entwining in his hair, pulling and pushing slightly. He moaned happily around the hardness in his mouth, making Cas swear in what Dean was pretty sure was Enochian. It only took a few minutes of Dean devoting his full attention to have Castiel whimpering and writhing slightly on the bed. A slight adjustment in position, a quick swallow, and Dean took all of him. "God, DEAN!" Castiel's shout was loud in the empty hotel room, and then he dissolved into senseless begging. Sliding slowly off Castiel, Dean quickly moved to his duffle, grabbing a bottle of lube, and then returning to his angel.

Dean was getting to get desperate. His body almost seemed to be on fire, and only by touching Castiel did the fire abate slightly. He struggled to be gentle, not wanting to hurt Cas the first time, but the feeling of Cas warm and tight around his fingers, and the slight gasp-moans he was making as Dean stretched him out were wearing quickly on Dean's control. "Dean, please, I can't wait anymore."

"Cas..." Dean groaned back, and gently pulled his fingers out. Quickly lubing himself up, he began to slowly push into Cas, struggling to take his time. He was doing fine with the taking it slow until Castiel's hands grabbed his hips and pulled him hard into him. Suddenly enveloped in warm, tight heat, Dean groaned deep in his chest, and shuddered.

"Do it... Dean, please..." Castiel's begging finally tore down the last of Dean's control, and he began thrusting hard, grinding his body against Castiel's with every motion. A slight change in angle, and Castiel almost screamed Dean's name, fingers scratching down his back. Dean could feel the fire in him growing inside him until it blotted out everything else.

Castiel had felt the fire building at Dean's first touches and now that Dean was so close to him, the fire was growing with every thrust, with every push against whatever it was inside him that caused his brain to go hazy with pleasure. The fire built to an almost painful intensity, and Castiel looked up into Dean's eyes, found an answering flame flicking in the pupils in his eyes, and then everything exploded in heat and pleasure and whiteness.

Neither man knew how long they were out, but when they came to, they were both clean, and covered, and were cuddled up against each other. Castiel looked up at him with pleasure glazed eyes. "That was amazing..." he murmured, and snuggled slightly closer to Dean. The fire was slowly going out, but the desire to touch was still strong enough to outweigh whatever awkwardness that could have possibly been there.

"Yeah. I have to admit that I wasn't completely sure how it would work out, but that was definitely worth having to track down your brother even through all the ridiculous wardings they had up." Seraphiel's voice was like a bucket of cold water. Both men sat straight up in the bed, staring at the slight angel that was sitting at the desk, chair leaned back and feet resting on the top. Her head was turned towards them, and even though the bandages hid her eyes, Dean knew she was watching. A slight smile flickered across her face as she observed the slight flush that slowly warmed Castiel's cheeks. "So, I know where your brother is. It will take a little bit of planning to get in, but once we do, I should be able to handle most things. I assumed you two could take care of yourselves."

"Wait... what the fuck... you were... What the fuck? How long have you been there?" Dean's outburst was loud.

"A while. You two didn't seem like you wanted to be interrupted, and drop the whole 'I'm offended that you were watching.' I am so tuned with your sexual inclinations at the moment that you cannot even begin to pretend that my voyeurism bothers you. Doesn't bother him either." She made a vague gesture in Castiel's direction. Castiel had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. Dean sputtered something under his breath, and Seraphiel went back to staring at the ceiling. "So, whenever you two put clothing on, I will brief you. Or you can stay nude. I personally do not mind. The fire should die down, but you can continue to feed it, and it will last longer. So if you want, continue. I don't mind at all. I could even join in if you want." Her smile went slightly predatory, and she hummed slightly to herself.

"You... enchanted me or some shit?" Dean got slightly angry at this, and Seraphiel waved his anger off slightly, unconcerned.

"You took the deal. Don't complain now, and it isn't like you didn't enjoy it. Anyway... are you two going to get up so we can do this... rescue your brother that is?"

A/N: Don't really have anything to put here either... my friend is slowly converting me to a Destiel writer, and this and Bedroom Eyes are dedicated to her. 3 I'm pretty sure there will be two more chapters to this. I'm going to try to get those up soon. Hope you enjoyed. As always, reviews make my day.


	5. Chapter 5

Warning/Summary: Last torture chapter. Short, but I couldn't really drag this one out that much... Next chapter will be the last.

It would be so easy to just say yes. Consciousness came and went and the pain was always there when he came back, like a burning hot wave, washing away everything else, drowning Sam with it. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that he knew that Dean had held out against this for years. Sam could hold out for as long as it took for Dean to find him. Or at least, Sam thought he could. But Dean was slowly becoming a fading memory. Pain was washing it all away. Well, pain, and the feeling of his blood slowly leaking out of him. Of the weakness that was slowly growing stronger. Of the darkness that was again rising up to claim him.

Next time Sam came to, he somehow managed to open his eyes. The demon was standing relaxed in front of him, bloody razor still held in his hand. "You know, it occurred to me that I hadn't introduced myself. Name is Murmur." The demon leaned in close to Sam, and when he spoke again, his breath was hot against Sam's ear. "I was one of the first." He leaned back again, and there was a slight smile on his face. "Second generation if you will. Not like Azazel, Lilith or Alistair big, but still big. You should be honored that I'm putting this much effort into you, you know? I have other important things to be doing, you know, but you, Sam... you are the most important... Say yes at any time, Sam, and all the pain will stop and go away. I just need to hear yes."

"Fuck you..." Sam managed to choke out. There was a brief flash of anger in the demon's eyes, and the torture began again. Sam stopped trying to fight the pain and let it rise up and swallow him. It was not long before darkness again reached up and the pain disappeared for a brief time. Sam had no idea how long he spent unconscious. All he knew that it was a break from the pain, which he was thankful for.

When he came to the next time, there was an odd feeling in his head, almost like it was crowded. He swore he could hear whispers just behind him, but whenever he turned his head to try and focus on it, the whispers did not become any clearer. Murmur was not in the room this time, so Sam had a few brief moments to try and figure out what was happening. "Hello?" his voice was rough from screaming. "Hello? Is there anyone there?" Suddenly, there was a presence beside him. No person was there, but Sam could swear he could feel someone there. The whispers quieted for a brief second, and there was one last thing said, barely loud enough for Sam to understand.

_Hold on. We are coming. _Then the presence was gone, and Sam was alone again. There was a small part of his brain that noticed an immediate drop in temperature in the room, almost like a cold front blowing in. He shivered slightly, the movement inducing a stinging pain from all the wounds across his body. Murmur still had not come back, and Sam settled in to wait, almost wishing that he would drop back into unconsciousness. But a small light of hope began to grow in his chest. Maybe he would be rescued soon. Maybe.

Sam felt that hope almost die when Murmur walked back in, a cold smile on his face. "Good morning, Sammy boy. Ready to say yes? No? Well that is a shame. You really enjoy testing my patience. That's ok though. I've heard lots of good things about you Winchesters and your stamina. I enjoy looking forward to seeing if it is true. Let's begin again then shall we? Can't keep Lucifer waiting..."


	6. Chapter 6

Warnings/Summary: Everything ends happily ever after or some shit. I don't own Supernatural or any characters... y'all know the drill.

Seraphiel lounged in her chair as both men rolled out of the bed to pull their clothing back on. Dean thought her gaze might have lingered a bit on them, but with those bandages covering her eyes, he really couldn't tell. Her face was completely blank as she waited, relaxed, still as a statue. She stayed that way until Cas began to fumble with his tie, frowning at it like it held the secrets of the universe. She sighed slightly, and gracefully stood. She stood lightly in front of him, and calmly took the tie from him. She easily tied it around his neck, settling it in to the barely tightened state it had been. Even though Dean was across the room, it almost looked like Castiel was shaking slightly. He had never seen Castiel shake, tremble, almost like he was scared. There seemed to be a silent conversation going to between the two angels, and whatever they were conversing was quickly over. Castiel nodded, and Seraphiel's hands moved from his tie to his chest. Castiel gasped, his knees buckling slightly, and Seraphiel's other hand reached out, easily holding him up by a grip on his arm. After a brief second, Castiel nodded again, and steadied himself on his feet. "Thank you." Castiel said quietly, and Seraphiel returned his nod.

"My apologies for... I received the order from on high. As He wills, so it shall be." She turned away from Castiel at that comment, and turned to Dean, hand outstretched.

"Hey, no... I definitely don't want you touching me. Not the best track-record." Dean backed slowly away from the diminutive angel, hands raised protectively. His back pressed against the wall as he

"I am simply going to remove the enchantment on you. I could leave it on but... I do not think you will enjoy the roller coaster ride." She reached out and gently ran a single finger down the side of Dean's hand. Dean's reaction was immediate. The little spark of fire the had been flickering in him, almost dead from the inferno it had been when Cas had been touching him, flared back into life, spiking immediately into an inferno, filling his body with a raging heat. He had never felt himself get that hard, that quickly. The moan that tore itself out of him was deep, animalistic. Vision tinted red from need, Dean looked down at the small angel in front of him, deep in his personal space, only a few inches away. He focused immediately on her lips, which looked soft, inviting, demanding to be kissed. He leaned forward unconsciously, the undeniable need demanding to be satisfied. He did not notice her hand on his chest until too late. The fire in his body flared higher, too high, and pain blocked the need from his mind. A brief part of his mind noticed that her hand was too hot, burning hot. He thought he screamed. The fire flared even higher, obliterating everything, and then it was simply gone. He found himself curled up on the floor, panting lightly. Seraphiel was crouched beside him, head tilted slightly, expression calm. "My apologies." she said gently. Castiel looked at him over her shoulder, showing a small amount of concern. Dean's reaction was instinctual. He had lashed out with a punch aimed at her face before he could stop himself. It felt like he had punched concrete. Hard.

"SON OF A BITCH! DAMN ANGELS!" Dean's voice was loud in the hotel room, and Castiel's face grew even more concerned as Dean grabbed his hand, blooding leaking from split knuckles, the white of bone gleaming in a midst of red.

"Imbecile." Seraphiel muttered, and reached out, easily grabbing his hand. A soothing heat flowed from her touch, and Dean watched as the skin sealed itself. There was a vague feeling of bones grinding, but there was no pain, only a gentle, soothing heat. The heat faded slowly away when she removed her hand. "I would not do that again." she said slightly, and then smirked. She stood quickly, moving carefully around Castiel, and returned to the table. Castiel leaned down, extending a hand to help Dean up. Still out of it enough to accept the help, Dean did not really notice that even without whatever mojo Seraphiel had hit them both with, there was still a vague amount of pleasure in Castiel touching him, even with something as innocent as helping him stand.

Seraphiel looked over at them, head cocked slightly, and looked back down at the table. "Your brother is here." She pointed calmly at a map that had not been there before. "It is a mansion currently taken over by a brood of demons. The highest ranking one is known as Murmur. He is... old. I could not learn much through the amount of wards they have on the building, but it seems like he is trying to break your brother, through torture, to get him to say yes to Lucifer. Murmur does not seem to care about the fact that Lucifer will probably kill him for damaging his true vessel so. I managed to get a message in to Sam, telling him to hold on. Then I headed back here. I can get rid of the sigils guarding the building. You and Castiel will distract the rest of the demons. I will get Sam and deal with Murmur."

Dean could see the train wreck he was heading for, and he could not stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. "Why the Hell do we need your help anyway? Yeah, you've been a huge help with finding Sammy and everything, but you've fucked with me and Cas enough. How do we know you aren't just going to pop in while we are distracting the demons, grab Sammy, and use him as leverage to get me to say yes to Michael? I mean, that is the big plan right... you angels need me to say yes, the big fight goes down. Half the world gets roasted and everyone is happy? So, how the fuck do I know this isn't just some other angle? How the fuck do I know you aren't just another Zachariah, making some plan to manipulate me?"

Seraphiel seemed fine until the very last bit. Then she snapped. White light flooded the hotel room, and the temperature of the room skyrocketed. He could almost hear Castiel yell over the sound of an inferno raging. It was instinct to curl up, trying to shield himself from the waves of heat pressing against his body. There was voice in his mind then, alien, sexless, dangerous. _After all the things that you have been through regarding my kind, you still have not learned to show the slightest bit of respect. You also seem to think that the Apocalypse is the end-all-be-all of my duties. Let me enlighten you. My duty was to sing God's praises until the end of time, NOT DEAL WITH IGNORANT CHILDREN SCREAMING IN THE NIGHT. _The mental shout had Dean writhing on the ground, his scream drowned out by the crackle of flames. _I help you because I wish to, not because I have an ulterior motive. However, my patience for your childish antics is not infinite, and you should learn to watch your tongue. _The light faded to a manageable level, and Dean found his eyes dragged open, almost against his will. He was on the ground, looking up at a Seraphiel that was significantly different from what she had been Wings, three sets of them, curled from her back, the feathers the color of fire. All her bandages were gone, and Dean saw her eyes for the first time. There was no pupil, no iris, no white in her eyes. Fire flickered there. Her face was alien in its beauty, cold and hot all at once. Her head cocked slightly as she looked down at him, and the crackling of the inferno slowly disappeared. The heat began to drain out of the room. "Learn to show respect, Dean Winchester. If only for the fact that it could save your life one day." She turned away from him, and a flash briefly lit the room. When the after image cleared from Dean's eyes, she was back as she had been before, bandaged and sightless. "As I was saying... You and Castiel will go in the front and distract the rest of the brood. I will go in, grab Sam, and meet you at the front. I will take care of Murmur if you two can take care of the rest of the demons. I would take care of all of them, but there is a very real chance in me incinerating Sam as well. We can leave as soon as you are ready." Her voice was emotionless when she spoke, and it was obvious that she still was slightly angry.

Dean struggled to stand, dragging himself off the floor again for the second time in far too short of a time, and looked over at Castiel. He was slightly surprised by the fact that Castiel's sword was out, and by the expression on his face, he had been seriously considering using it. Either Seraphiel did not know, or she was not even slightly threatened by him. Seraphiel speaking again drew Dean's gaze away from Castiel. "There are guards at the gate. I will deal with them." she sighed vaguely, and spoke again. "This is going to be uncomfortable." She hunched herself in, and changed again. A quick flash, and she stood in front of the table, shaking slightly. The bandages were gone, replaced by worn looking blue jeans and gray moccasins. Her tunic had been replaced by a simple gray shirt, one side hanging off her shoulder. She turned, and her eyes were all white now, fogged over. She looked blind. Now that Dean could look at her without the feeling that he was about to be smote, he could see that, in fact, she was quite pretty. Delicate, almost like a doll. Then she looked over at him, and fire flickered for the briefest second in her eyes. He immediately shut down all those feelings. She frowned slightly, and then there was a cane in her hands. "There. More than enough to fool some idiot demons. Are you ready?" She stared at Dean, and now that he could actually tell where she was looking, he found the surprising amount of concentration in her gaze disturbing.

It took Dean a few clears of his throat before he could actually speak. "Just, lemme grab a gun and the knife..." he moved quickly about the room, careful not to get too close to her. He could vaguely see her facing Castiel out of the corner of his eyes, and it almost seemed like there was a slight dominance thing going on. He saw Castiel move slightly, putting away his sword, and dropping his gaze from Seraphiel's. Then Dean was ready. "Let's go."

The Impala's rumble was comforting and Dean slowly settled down, putting the emotions that the seraphim now sitting in his back seat, gazing curiously out the window, had elicited from him. She would help him save Sammy, and then he would not have to deal with her anymore or her bullshit about respect. A slight snort from the back seat distracted him briefly, and a thought he was fairly sure was not his slipped through his brain. _Just because you refuse to respect me does not mean you should not respect the angel who gave up everything for you._

"Turn left here." Her voice from right behind him made him flinch slightly, and the slight puff of air on his ear had him flinching. There was a cold laugh as she sank back into her seat, and Dean cranked the radio up to cover his slight discomfort. They did not have to drive for long, and Seraphiel's directions coming occasionally from the back seat. When they finally turned down a road with a wall along one side, Dean was told to park. "Follow behind me. But try and stay out of sight. Be ready to move quickly." The small angel left the back seat, making her way quickly to the sidewalk. Once there, her pace slowed, and the small cane waved its way back and forth across the sidewalk. Dean and Castiel followed behind her, peaking around a corner that she had gone around. A massive gate broke the wall, with two surprisingly burly men standing in front of it. They were watching Seraphiel approach slowly, and when Seraphiel's cane finally tapped against one of them, cold smiles spread across each of their faces.

"Lost? Need some help?" The demon's voice was cold.

"Um, yeah... I actually am a little lost. You wouldn't happen be able to lend me a phone? I'm afraid I lost one... I just need to call my brother. He'll come and help me. Please?" Seraphiel's voice had just that right level of fear. The demons moved closer, almost like sharks scenting blood. She waited until they were both within touching distance, and then exploded into motion. Her hands clamped down on their heads, Grace flowing out from her. The demons did not even have time to scream. There was the usual light accompanying angelic exorcism, but Seraphiel went a step further. The bodies under her hands burnt, crumpling to ash. She stepped back as the corpses crumbled into small piles, slowly being blown away from the wind. She looked briefly over her shoulder at Dean and Castiel, and then turned her attention to the gates and wall. "Someone is going to feel this, but oh well." she said as they approached. She calmly laid her hands on the wall, and pressed. Dean could feel a wave of power roll of her, and the stones under her hands turned black, like they had been burnt. The blackness expanded as she pushed harder against the wall. The stones beneath her hands began to crumble, the destruction spreading, slowly destroying the stones. It was a short time, and her hands sank completely through the wall. She stepped back, watching the stones slowly crumble. With a vague crumbling noise, a large space of the wall collapsed, and Seraphiel stepped through the dust drifting down. "Go. I will find you when I have Sam." She disappeared with the sound of wing flaps.

Dean looked over at Cas, who nodded, and then they were both in the center of a room. Several demons looked up, surprise on their faces. They did not even have a chance to fight back. Dean slashed out with his knife, Cas stuck out with his sword, and demons fell.

She appeared right in the room, within arm's length of Murmur. He was only surprised for a moment, blinking down at her with an astounded emotion of his face. That was all she needed. Power flowed out, tossing him away. She spared a brief moment to look at Sam, to meet his eyes that looked at her with an odd mix of fear and hope, and then she turned back to the demon, who was pulling a knife out of his leg. Apparently it had embedded itself there during his encounter with the wall. "I'd love to stay around, and chat, Murmur, but you see, I have better things to be doing. Sam, close you eyes." Her voice was cold, and Sam immediately obeyed, too weak at the moment to even question who she was and why she was here. A wave of heat swept over him, he thought he heard Murmur scream once, and then soft hands touched him. When he started to open his eyes, and hand quickly clamped over them. "Do not open them." He felt something soft gently wrapping around his head, and when he tried to open them again, he found something soft holding his eyes closed. "I said do not open them. I am only holding myself in by the barest amount, and I might slip a bit. So, I am going to bind them while I help you out." Sam could feel hands quickly unbinding him, and he did not have the chance to warn her before his body collapsed. However, Seraphiel caught him easily.

"Easy, easy..." her voice was soft, and Sam felt a soothing heat seeping from her into him, slowly erasing the pain. He sighed as the last of the pain disappeared, along with the warmth. He found himself able to move without pain, but still weak, so weak.

"Thank you." Sam's voice was weak, rough.

"Do not worry. I will take care of you." She murmured gently. "Can you walk?"

"I think so."

"Alright. Hold my hand. I will guide you."

Sam felt a warm hand take his, and gently guide him toward who knows where. Sam relaxed, letting the feeling of comfort and safety that was rolling of whoever his savior was slowly seep into his bones. "Who are you?" he finally thought to ask after an indeterminate amount of time. He was fairly sure that they were out of that room by now, and he could hear vague noises from somewhere up ahead.

"Seraphiel. I am an Angel of the Lord." Sam could not help the slight laugh that slipped out.

"So what... you and Castiel are friends or something?"

"Or something." came the short response. Footsteps running toward them ended that conversation. Sam heard what vaguely sounded like Enochian from Seraphiel, and another wave of power washed over him. There was a loud thud of a body hitting the floor, a few vague noises that might have been it thrashing, and then silence. Then Seraphiel's hand was again pulling gently, leading him forward. More time passed, and the sounds of what Sam could now determine was combat grew closer, until they blossomed. Sam could feel the change in the air that meant he had stepped into a large space, and the sounds of combat where too close for comfort with Sam being blind. "You can remove the bandage if you want. I am going to help wrap up the fight." The warm hand left him, and Sam slowly moved his hands, unwrapping the bandage from his eyes. The sight that met him was, all in all, rather odd. The angel he assumed had saved him was currently taking a demon in apart, Dean and Castiel were in the middle of a circle of bodies, and several other demons were running out of a door, away from the small angel that had just entered the fray. In a few seconds, it was over, and silence settled. Sam found his eyes drawn to Seraphiel when she turned back to him, and found himself staring into eyes full of fire. She blinked once, and the fire was replaced by the the foggy whiteness of blind eyes. She flicked her eyes down his body, and smirked vaguely. She held a hand out, and it was filled with what looked like a towel or blanket. "To cover yourself. Modesty." Sam only then realized he was completely naked. He had only just finished wrapping the surprisingly soft piece of what felt like cotton around his waist when Dean almost tackled him.

"Sammy! You're ok."

"Dean..." Sam sighed as Dean's presence began to sooth the last of the wounds on his mind. However, the hug was quickly broken up by a dainty clearing of a throat.

"I have to be going. We both completed our side of the deal, and I have matters that must be attended to in Heaven. Castiel. Winchesters. Do try and be careful. I am sure you will be seeing one of my brothers all too soon, but I will keep quiet as to your locations." The look she gave Castiel seemed to convey many things, and her lips flickered slightly in a smile. "Remember Dean, respect." With that parting comment, she was gone. Dean sighed in relief, and looked Sam up and down, checking to make sure he was ok.

"Lets get the Hell out of here. You can explain what happened on the way to the motel." Sam nodded in agreement, exhaustion seeping into his gestures. Only Castiel, with eyes of an angel, saw Seraphiel still standing in the room, looking as she shood, fire-colored wings covering her eyes and feet, white tunic spotless and gleaming. She nodded slightly at him, and then was completely gone, back to Heaven. Castiel sighed, turned to follow the brothers, vaguely happy that things had turned out as he had hoped. That everything had turned out as he had hoped. Even Dean.

A/N: I know I said that this would be the last chapter, but after having it up for a few days, I feel the need to have an epilogue, just because I hate the way I ended it...


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, just building sand castles...

Sam passed out as soon as his head hit the pillows, and only his snores managed to keep Dean from thinking he had died, although they didn't keep him from pacing anxiously around the motel room, occasionally casting worried glances at his brother's sprawled form. Castiel let him pace for an undetermined length of time, but finally he stood, stopping Dean by a solid grip on his arm. Dean twitched, blinking at Castiel like he hadn't even known he was there anymore. "Cas?" Dean's voice was weak, scared. "Cas, he's gonna be ok, right? She didn't fuck with him or anything? That demon didn't mess him up too bad?" Everything about Dean pleaded to be comforted, and Castiel couldn't help himself. He pulled Dean close, wrapping his arms around Dean's shaking form, and he breathed in the scent of Dean, a mixture of sweat, blood, and a combination of gun oil, liquor, and lingering deep beneath all of that, the smell of sex. It was a heady mixture, and the feeling of him close raised Castiel's heartbeat. The sensation wasn't unpleasant, but right now, Dean needed him, so Castiel pushed the physical stimuli to the back of his mind.

"He will be fine, Dean. Seraphiel may be rather odd, but she would not go out of her way to harm someone she had just saved. I sense nothing wrong with him, nothing lasting. He will be fine." His hand was gentle when he ran it against Dean's cheek, blue eyes meeting green. "He will be fine." Castiel repeated, eyes wide and earnest.

"Are we going to be fine?" From only inches away, Dean's eyes were bottomless, and so many emotions twisted within them that Castiel couldn't even begin to name them. "I mean... Jesus... You didn't have any experience with anything like that and yeah, and I've been thinking about it, and I realized that I wanted it, for a while now." Dean stepped away, running hands through his stress ruffled hair. "I mean... I'm not even completely sure what happened. I got that we were under some angel mojo or something so for all I know it you didn't want to. I might have raped you for all I know."

A slight smile flickered across Castiel's face, unseen by Dean. "Dean... We may have been under... angel mojo... as you put it, but you see, angels have never been able to force humans into doing something. Even Zachariah... he cannot force you to say yes to Michael. We cannot take away your free will. So the mojo did not create something that was not there in the first place. I... wanted to. I've wanted to for a while, too. I've wanted you, Dean, for too long. Even though I shouldn't." Castiel would have kept going, but Dean's lips pressing against his stopped him. A slightly surprised noise slipped out, but rather than pulling away, Cas reached up to cradle Dean's head gently, like he was something precious. Things would have gone much farther if Sam's voice hadn't interrupted Dean trying to get his body as close to Castiel's as possibly, while pushing Cas up against a wall.

"Don't you guys think that I've had enough therapy-worthy things done to me this week without seeing you two sucking face? Can't I have a little bit of time to recover a little before you two subject me to more horrifying images?" Sam's voice was rough, foggy from sleep, and sounded slightly confused. He had sat up on the bed and was rubbing at his face with one hand. He frowned vaguely at Dean and Cas, who had separated, straightening their clothes awkwardly.

"Sam, you ok?" Dean's voice was gruff now, all signs of the sensitivity from earlier gone. "Everything still working? Demon didn't castrate you or anything, right?"

"Real funny, Dean. No, everything still works. I think. Did I really get saved by a midget angel?"

"Her vessel is not a midget. She is 5'3". A midget is 4'10." Castiel's face was deadpan as both brothers looked at him.

"Yes, you really got saved by a midget angel. A midget angel bloodhound. Long story. I'm just glad to have you back, Sammy." Dean slapped him roughly on the shoulder, then wrinkled his nose slightly. "Dude... go take a shower. You stink."

A/N: I feel a little bit better with that ending... hopefully an update for another fic soon.


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